No Light
by Guardian Erin
Summary: Spike isn't the same after his encounter with the Initiative, and Giles takes on the unprecedented responsibility of rehabilitating a chipped vampire.  S/G, much more to be added, please R&R
1. Out of the Fire

Giles/Spike

A rewrite on how Spike came back to the Scoobies after his encounter with the Initiative. The gang hasn't seen him since Buffy kicked him out of town in their deal over Angelus and the apocalypse, AKA the end of season 2. It is now towards season 4.

_Warning: Blood and mentions of torture lie ahead._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 1<strong>

"What is this place?"

Buffy's question seemed to silently echo throughout the dark place. A moment ago, she and Xander thought that they had discovered a nest of vampires crouching in a dingy old place on the outskirts of her normal patrol radius. But the fighting didn't feel right. They immediately attacked Buffy and Xander, as expected, but when Buffy injured one, she sensed the difference. They fought well, clearly trained, but they weren't even close to being as strong as vampires. She immediately yelled at Xander that they were human. They couldn't cross the same line that Faith had if they could help it.

The men fled. An order was barked out as quickly as Buffy had warned Xander. Soldier types again, she realized. But she was too taken aback by what she had uncovered. Demons. The demons that she had sensed would be in the building. None of which tried to attack them.

"They're leaving," Xander said, amazed as the soldier types quickly made themselves scarce. What amazed him just as much was the fact that Buffy wasn't going to chase after them, maybe beat the answers out of one. "Buffy, they're going to get away."

"Xander," Buffy said, in a more sharp tone, catching his attention. He looked at her, and followed her stare into the shadows, stopping at the sight of a large table covered in dismembered body parts and gritty demon blood.

Beyond the tables, further grisly images could scarcely be made out in the dim light. Strange, inhuman silhouettes hanging from chains. For the first time, Buffy fully realized the scene of carnage that filled the expanse of the abandoned building.

"Smoke," Xander barked, only an instant before a surge of flames lit up a piece of the far wall. The flames spread quickly... a little too quickly to be anything but pre-planned arson. "They're destroying the place. We have to leave, Buff."

"They're alive," Buffy stated, finally moving from her frozen spot and taking off in a dead bolt.

Xander covered his mouth and nose with a sleeve, taking a while longer to realize that Buffy was right. Many of the bodies that he mistook as dead were actually alive. Awake, but hardly moving. He jogged to catch up to her, where Buffy fought with the heavy iron doors of a cage, rattling the door against its lock. He peered inside, appalled by an indistinguishable mess of blood and flesh.

"Buffy, we can't save them all," Xander urged her, pushing her away from the cage. She seemed blinded by panic, too horrified to discern between what she could and couldn't save. He moved her further, forcing her to run to the next cage that still held a humanoid shape. Xander turned back to watch the flames while her heard Buffy kick the door so hard that it broke open. It was growing warm, and too many red-orange flames filled his vision.

"Hurry, Buff," Xander urged. She worked faster than it seemed like to him – a few demons and vampires fled as soon as they were set free, but many of them seemed too blinded by fear to budge from their opened restraints.

"Leave it, Buffy!" Xander finally yelled, pulling his friend away from a cage of frightened demons that wouldn't budge. He ignored the smudge of tears and soot on the Slayer's face, instead moving her along. The fire roared – there was no more waiting. No more time. He had to get Buffy out of there.

"Now," he urged, pulling on her shoulders. Buffy started to run with him, but then stopped short and pulled back towards the lines of tormented demons. Xander clung to her arm desperately, but against a Slayer, he was no use. "Buffy, they won't come!"

"Help me," she yelled over the roar of the inferno that was starting to engulf the building. Buffy grabbed hold of the chains that suspended a body from the ceiling. "Xander, help me!" she shrieked when he hesitated in the slightest. He went to her aid, immediately pulling on the chains to try to help. He hoped against hope that somehow the bolt in the ceiling would give easily. Instead, his chest pressed against the body of the captive, and he felt a wetness seep through his shirt. With horror, he realized that this victim had large sections of flesh stripped away on each side, from underarm to the jut of sharp hip bones.

"Let him go," Xander blurted out, prepared to drag Buffy away again.

"I know him!" Buffy screamed in return, growing beyond hysterical. "I know him, I know him," she repeated, blind to anything but the growing panic and the sturdy chains that she needed to break. "Xander..."

Xander anticipated her move, positioning himself to support the victim's weight. With a hard yank, the length of chains fell, and so did the body. She immediately stooped to help lift the weight, and was able to take the full grown man in her arms easily.

"Go, go," Buffy was the one to urge now, and Xander only hesitated enough to make sure that Buffy was actually leaving the scene of horror for good.

It was only when the night air hit him that Xander realized how unbearably hot the building had become, and he immediately choked on the clear air and started coughing violently.

Buffy was visibly shaken, with soot marking lines of tears that had otherwise dried on her cheeks. She moved a great distance from the building before setting down the person she had carried out and kneeling beside him. She simply stared, as if dazed.

Gasping, Xander stopped behind Buffy and waited for his breath to return. "You know him?" he asked between coughs, his eyes watering. From what he saw, he couldn't recognize who it might be. Of course, all he could think about were those enormous wounds where flesh had been stripped off down to raw muscle.

"I swear," Buffy said on a quiet breath, her eyes still riveted on the body. "I remember him." But he was... different now. She was trying to remember what she had seen back in the warehouse that had reminded her of someone.

Xander waited until he heard sirens in the distance. "Buff, unless you want to stay and explain this to the police, we have to go. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but no human can survive what they did to him."

Buffy shook her head slightly. _No human... _But his eyes had been open before. He'd been alive. Now he seemed unconscious, but his chest didn't move for breath. She looked closer at his face, and ran her fingers over a scarred eyebrow.

"Spike," she said, spitting out the name before it escaped her again. Was it really? He didn't look anything like... but that scar...

"Impossible. You drove him out of town over a year ago. There's no way-"

"Trust me. We have to go," Buffy said, once again pulling the limp form into her arms.

"Buff, leave him," Xander said. "Evil, remember?"

"You wanna leave the evil vampire to wake up on the street?" Buffy asked. But that wasn't really what she had in mind. Whatever had happened in that building... that was evil.

"Giles' place is nearest," Xander said, sparing no time for argument. "Let's please get the hell out of here."

* * *

><p>A pounding at the door roused Giles from his chair. He immediately expected the children to be seeking his advice, but he wasn't prepared to open the door to find Buffy and Xander covered in blood, and... soot? He cleared the way for them, smelling foul smoke clinging to their clothes, and the ghastly body that Buffy clung to.<p>

"What in God's name-?"

"It's the Initiative," Buffy said, her voice a little tight. "I think it was. They looked like those soldiers again."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Buffy said, but her voice was more pleading than self-assured.

"She's not fine," Xander said to Giles. "The Initiative was running a full-out Spanish Inquisition. We need rope or something, Giles."

"Rope," Giles repeated questioningly.

"Vampire," Xander said, indicating the unconscious form that Buffy held.

"Put him on the table," Giles said, as he went to fetch something that would restrain a vampire.

They laid him on his back, and Giles eventually secured him to the table with ropes across his legs as well as tying the end of the chains still attached to his wrists.

"How did the Initiative manage to capture Spike?" Giles asked when the vampire was finally bound.

"You're sure it's Spike?" Xander asked, amazed by Giles' immediate identification.

"Of course. Only his hair has changed. It's not that awful bleached color anymore. Somehow I doubt that it was his own choice to go back to his natural color. They must have had him for quite a while. Now could you please explain what it was you found?"

"A chop shop," Xander said, "so to speak. It looked like they had captured all sorts of demons and vampires, and... they were just cutting them apart. I mean pieces, Giles. And some of them weren't even dead yet."

"We couldn't save them all," Buffy said.

Giles looked at his Slayer, acknowledging the strangeness to her and the haunted look in her eyes. "Forgive me, Buffy," he said, "but remember that it isn't your burden to save the undead. The compassion you're feeling is misplaced. These were not innocents."

Buffy furrowed her brow with annoyance. "It's still horrible."

"Yes," Giles agreed, leaving the "_perhaps_" silent. "Maybe this will be a clue yet as to what the Initiative is up to, and where to find them."

Xander nodded. "When he comes to, we can make him talk."

"He's already told me quite a lot," Giles said, his eyes running over the visible wounds on the vampire. "Although it doesn't make much sense for _why._ They clearly wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. See, the way his finger is crooked... broken bones. And these scars... not to mention the fresh cuts." There was no telling what else they might have done that wouldn't even leave a mark.

"I need some air," Buffy said, and quickly left the apartment.

Xander lingered with Giles, watching the older man take note of all the marks on the bare torso. "I should make sure she's okay," he said. "I'll be right back."

Giles nodded absently and continued his examination. He half wondered if he should fetch a pad and take notes of everything he found. They'd left Spike in a terrible state. There were the chains still stuck to his wrists, and a black collar that looked like it was made of metal as well. His jeans were worse for wear, but still completely intact. Boots were missing, however. Perhaps too much kicking, Giles theorized. His head had been shaved a bit haphazardly, judging by a few uneven spots.

Immediately, Giles wondered if the Initiative had been up to old tricks again. He went to stand by Spike's head, and began to run his thumbs over the short layer of hair, slowly turning the vampire's head until he found what he was looking for.

The door opened and shut quietly, and Giles could sense Xander staring at him. "Whatcha doing, G-man?"

"There are surgical marks on his head," Giles said. They were almost faint, and seemed to be slow-healing, but the evidence was there.

"Another chipped vampire?"

"Indeed," Giles nodded. Months ago, they had encountered a vampire who claimed to have escaped from some underground military facility. According to his story, he couldn't bite humans anymore without excruciating pain. He ranted about some sort of microchip implanted in his brain. The only thing that seemed to confirm his wild theory was a square of gauze on the back of his head. Buffy was the least bit sympathetic, of course, and didn't believe him until he struck back as they fought, only to double over and scream in agony. This was all related to him second-hand, of course, because the vampire didn't live a minute longer after that. As Buffy put it, the vampire had seemed to actually impale himself on her stake on purpose. He found it all hard to believe until now.

"Wow. So he can't bite people, huh?"

"Well, yes," Giles said hesitantly. "If the Initiative did the same procedure. There's no telling until he comes to."

"Hah. William the Bloody, chipped and harmless. Seems appropriate, huh?"

Giles didn't respond, but asked Xander to place a few calls and bring the others up to speed with the situation. When Buffy finally returned, he excused himself to go get supplies from the bathroom, and begin the process of bandaging wounds... only to make the vampire less gruesome to look at, of course.

"I'm surprised he's still out," Buffy commented when Giles finally finished his lengthy task.

"It's rather late," Giles said. "I suppose we'll have to think of what else to do with him until morning."

"We can't leave him on the table?" Xander pouted.

"I should think not! This is hardly secure... or sightly, for that matter. I refuse to have a half-naked vampire restrained in the middle of my living space."

"Alright, relax," Xander said. "I can think of a better place to put him."


	2. Only the Game

Giles awoke in the morning with the immediate memory that his home had been turned into a prison. He slowly sat up in his bed, sighed a few times, and finally put on his glasses and began to steel himself for the day. They had laboriously removed the chains binding Spike's wrists, only to put on a different set – one they actually had the key for. Apparently the best place to keep Spike had decidedly been the bath tub. Giles wasn't sure how he had managed to ever agree to that. He should have had them chain Spike to a radiator – anything but the bathroom. He'd gotten only a small amount of revenge by making Xander be the one who had to buy blood for the creature.

He sighed again, trying to will away the need to empty his bladder. It would have to wait. Not in a million years would he use a bathroom under someone's gaze, much less one occupied by a demon. But he'd still go to the bathroom per his morning routine, just to feel out the situation. He'd have to get used to whatever the demon in his bath would inflict on him. Later he could call Buffy and have her relocate the demon for a while.

Giles prepared himself for anything, and finally went to the bathroom. He flicked on the light, expecting the worst, or at the very least, expecting to find himself face-to-face with a very pissed off vampire. He was surprised – even disappointed – to discover the vampire still asleep, his bandaged body slumped in the tub.

The Watcher sighed and went to the sink to begin rinsing his face. He wondered what would be in store in the immediate future. How many days would he wake to a vampire in the tub?

The children would have to come by as soon as possible and assess the situation with him. Get the information they needed out of the vampire, and then perhaps stake him at last. Keeping the undead thing in his own bath was just a bit too much. He remembered Spike. Mostly he remembered being kept under Angelus's meticulous, torturous care while Spike had watched. There wasn't much love between them, regardless.

Feeling a headache coming on, Giles opened the medicine cabinet and swallowed a few pills with a palm full of water. He dried his hands, and turned to find the vampire watching him. Giles managed not to look startled, but his mood changed to perplexity when Spike looked away, as if caught.

"So you're awake," Giles said.

He expected Spike's incessant chattering to begin. When a moment of silent passed, he expected Spike to begin ranting and hollering instead. Instead, the vampire quietly lifted his chained wrists, and examined the bandages until the silence grew awkward.

"Can you speak?" Giles asked, in a somewhat derisive tone.

At that, Spike seemed a little – was that panic? He looked at Giles with furtive glances, and then settled himself.

"I'm ready."

The response made little sense, and took Giles by surprise.

"Ready for what?"

Now Spike seemed surprised, as if bewildered to have been asked. Giles wondered if Spike even knew the answer to that question, until he finally spoke again.

"You can cut me," he said, and slowly settled himself into the tub, as if relaxing, and waiting for it. "I can take more."

The words absolutely chilled Giles. He placed a hand on the sink to steady himself.

"Is this... a new game?" Spike cautiously peered at Giles. It seemed to the Watcher as if he could see the gears turning in Spike's head, and see the abject confusion cross his face. Something seemed to resolve, and Spike went back to a focused spot on the wall. "You have to hurt me. That's the game. Okay?"

"Spike," Giles said slowly. "You are no longer in captivity."

The vampire slowly looked down at his chains, confused by Giles' words.

"Err... yes, well... not by them. They won't be hurting you any longer."

The room became so quiet that Giles could hear the soft clinking of the chains as Spike slowly fiddled with his hands. Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his face, wondering what to make of this. How they would ever get coherent answers out of Spike, he didn't know.

Utterly confused and dissatisfied, Giles finally turned to leave the bizarre room and collect his thoughts. He was paused when Spike spoke again, hesitantly calling after him; "Let them know I'm ready."

Giles shut the door as he left, nearly clipping his own heels in his hurry. The words made him nervous. It seemed as if Spike fully expected to be taken back by this Initiative group, as if they were merely waiting for the moment. Worse, and more bewildering, Spike was willing to take the abuse again... even readily asked for it. Perhaps a side effect of the chip? They had little idea as to what that piece of technology was designed to do.

Perhaps he's have to learn more before he could confront the vampire again. Giles only knew so far what Buffy and Xander had told him, and second-hand knowledge only went so far, of course. They had found a place – a warehouse – in which demons were being held captive. As Xander had said, they were even being mutilated and chopped into pieces while still alive. Some were caged, and others, like Spike, were hung from chains. Just examining Spike's wounds, he could tell that they had held him there for quite a long time, and had tortured him several different excruciating ways only recently. How much the vampire had endured, he couldn't be sure, because vampires could heal so quickly and flawlessly. Lastly, the soldiers had been prepared to burn the place to the ground and leave no survivors.

Giles went to the kitchen and put the kettle on while he turned these facts over in his head. When he fetched the morning paper from his step, he skimmed over every page and was delighted to find an article about the fire from the previous night. He read it thoroughly, and then went through it once more. Unfortunately, there were no clues there. The paper merely stated that the place had burned, that arson was suspected – they blamed teenagers looking for a thrill – and that animal bones were discovered in the fire, likely from an illegal slaughterhouse or something equally absurd. It vaguely finished by saying that the arson was being investigated, as well as the owners of the building for possible animal abuse.

"Ruddy nonsense," Giles muttered, finally tossing the paper aside. He finished his tea and then gave Buffy a call, pleading with her to gather the group and make a visit as soon as possible.

"We will, Giles," she promised. "We'll be by in a few hours, okay? Unless you really need me. Is he awake?"

"Yes," Giles said. If one could really call it that. "I must warn you, he's not quite himself at all."

"Are you okay? Do I need to come kick some undead ass?"

Her concern immediately put him at some ease. "No," Giles said. "I mean, yes I'm fine, and no, no ass-kicking is required," he said carefully, showing both distaste and amusement about the choice of words.

"I'm only a phone call away, okay?" Buffy said. "Just keep him under wraps until we get there. Don't do anything risky, okay?"

"I'm quite fine," Giles assured her. "I'll await your arrival, then?"

"Yeah."

They each hung up, and Giles reflected for a while, enjoying two cups of tea at his leisure. When he finally finished the last, he decided that it was only fair to give Spike a bit to eat. He had a few packets of blood on hand, and Xander was due to bring him more later in the day.

Spike was waiting when Giles returned to the bathroom. His eyes immediately went to the mug of blood in his hands, and Giles could tell that the vampire's mouth had set to watering. He watched the vampire clearly try to restrain himself as he came nearer, and finally perched at an edge of the tub where he felt assured that Spike could not reach him, even if he were taken by a fit of anger.

"Where's the knife?" Spike questioned, seeming to try hard not to stare at the blood. "I'm ready," he said again, dutifully.

Giles took a moment to work this out. Spike clearly wanted the blood, but once again asked to be cut. Some sort of conditioning, he realized. Nonetheless, the blood clearly gave him some leverage over the vampire.

"We're going to play a different game," Giles said, using Spike's terminology. He hoped he hadn't misunderstood the vague definition of this, as Spike's prolonged silence worried him.

"'Kay," Spike finally said.

"I'm going to ask you questions," Giles said, "and you will answer them honestly and fully. And once I am satisfied with the answers, you'll get some blood to drink. How does that sound?"

Spike shifted, sitting up as much as possible, and nodded eagerly, giving Giles rapt attention.

"Who was it that captured you?"

Spike blinked, and then squirmed slightly. "You did, master."

Giles rose to his feet, flustered. "Before this! Who had you all this time – and for how long?"

"I-I don't know. There were men in soldier's uniform. Doctors before that. I don't know." Spike seemed genuinely distressed at not being able to answer the question well enough, and his eyes pleaded Giles for another.

"Doctors," Giles repeated, pondering the scarring on Spike's head, and the story of the chipped vampire. "Do you know what they did to you? These doctors, I mean. Did they put something into your head?"

"Yes," Spike answered immediately, and then had to think. "Behavior modification. That was my first assignment."

"Assignment?"

"To test... to see how it would work. The chip. It hurts. I was reassigned after. But they didn't take it out. 'Cause it worked good, I guess. Then they gave me the collar."

"For what?"

"To... submit... of course. And I went to the warehouse. For endurance testing. I'm very good. The very best."

"I imagine this endurance... has to do with the cutting," Giles said.

"I withstand it," Spike said, with a hint of pride in his voice. "I do good. And then they reward me. Did I do good now?"

That was it, then, Giles realized. Spike was very familiar with this baiting tactic. It all made him rather dizzy, right down to Spike's earnest attitude towards his own suffering. He cleared his throat, and sat down at the edge of the tub again.

"Yes. Yes, you've been good."

"I like this game more," Spike said quietly, as if a bit afraid to speak his mind.

Giles was lost in his horror for a moment, and then realized that Spike was once again staring at the mug. "Yes," he said again, and brought the mug to the vampire so he could feed.

It had to have been the most repulsive moment of his life. Giles, stiffly holding a mug full of pig's blood while a hungry vampire tried to drink it all as quickly as possible. Some of the red liquid spilled across Spike's mouth in his fervor, dripping in thick streams down his chin and onto his bare chest. As disgusting it was, Giles already knew that he would not be cleaning the vampire off. There, he drew the line.

The mug was empty within a minute, if not less. Spike actually whined when Giles pulled it away, disgusted with his licking, but he quickly silenced himself and looked resigned once more.

"I'll be in again later today," Giles said absently as he stood and left. He shut off the bathroom light, hoping it would encourage Spike to sleep, and then wondered if it would have the opposite affect on a vampire. He shut the door anyway and went to clean the mug, making a mental note never to drink from it again.


	3. Chapter 3

"We're here!" Xander called out cheerfully as he entered the apartment many hours later. His arms were full with a large brown bag that seemed heavy, and the girls came in with him. "Sorry for the lateness, but, you know – when you're carrying a big bag full o' blood in a place like Sunnydale, might be a good idea to have a Slayer bodyguard, hey?"

"Of course," Giles nodded, watching Xander take the bag to the kitchen and begin to unload it.

"How's the prisoner?" Buffy asked, getting to the heart of the matter.

"We'd better discuss that, hadn't we?" Giles said, more of an offhanded remark.

"Did you speak to him?"

"A bit, yes," Giles said. "Come." He sat in the living room and waited for them all to settle in, including Xander. "Spike... isn't quite himself, to say the least. It's clear they've done a number on him. It's quite... unsettling, to put it mildly."

"What did he do?" Buffy asked, tensed.

"Nothing terrible, I assure you," Giles said. "He seems to be suffering some Stockholme syndrome, almost. He immediately asked me to continue torturing him when he awoke. It appears he associates it with being fed. Each successful round of torture, they'd let him eat, and so on. The only bit of useful information I could get from him so far is a confirmation that they did indeed place a chip in his head. Though I won't believe it until I see it in action."

"What about the Initiative?"

Giles shook his head. "He says he doesn't know much about them, and I believe him. But perhaps if I could think of the right questions to ask, he'd be able to reveal some pertinent information."

Buffy nodded sagely. "So what's the plan of action?"

"I found a truth-telling spell," Willow said. "Or maybe I could even whip up a memory spell."

"I appreciate that, but let's not resort to it yet," Giles suggested. "He answered my questions readily enough. I suppose it's only a matter of continuing."

"Okay," Buffy said. "So I'll go ask him some stuff."

"No," Giles said, stilling her before she rose up. He wasn't sure why he stopped her. It just seemed as if he should be the one to solely undertake this questioning. He hadn't realized until then, but he didn't actually want the children to interfere. "He's in a fragile state," Giles said, unsure of whether or not it was a lie. "I think it'd be best if only I dealt with him for now."

"You sure?"

"Yes," Giles said, this time feeling more certain about it. "He's been in isolation for so long. Seeing all of you would put him into a bit of shock, I fear, and then he wouldn't be much use to us."

"That's probably true," Xander agreed. "And didja guys read the paper this morning? Government coverup or what?"

They discussed the article, and then went over what they knew about the Initiative so far. All of them agreed that they wanted to find out for sure whether or not Spike's chip was what they thought it was – that if he bit a human being, he'd experience pain that would make him stop. Giles supposed, unhappily, that he had set himself up to be the guinea pig.

* * *

><p>Giles woke Spike the next morning with a mug of blood. The vampire slowly sat up once again, completely focused on the Watcher. It was almost amusing, except the blood from last night had dried and the vampire was an absolute mess.<p>

He set the hot mug on the side of the sink, making care that Spike knew exactly what was being silently offered as a prize.

"Tell me something," Giles said. "Do you know what would happen if you were to bite me?"

Spike made a cringing look. "It hurts."

"How?"

"In my head, like. S'like being shot with lightning."

"Hm. And how did your captors wash you down before? I imagine their... games, as you put it... ended messily."

"Hose, of course. Enough to get the blood off."

"Of course," Giles repeated. "Well, I'm not particularly fond of that method." He stood, going back to the sink, and drenched a washcloth with hot water. He didn't like the idea of cleaning Spike by hand, but supposed that if Spike did bite him, it would resolve one question rather quickly.

Giles perched himself once again, and leaned in carefully, beginning to make small dabs at the dried blood on Spike's face. The vampire tensed a little, and then tried to relax. Giles tried to imagine as if he were merely cleaning a child's dirty face. But as he'd never been particularly fatherly, nor could he imagine Spike as a child, the effect was lost. He'd cleaned the blood off of Spike the night before, while bandaging wounds... why should this be different now?

He finished as quickly as he could, and then went back to the sink to give the cloth a rinsing. "That was good," he praised in a calm tone. "I'm half tempted to reward you for that, but we're not done yet." He listened to the rustle of chains as Spike shifted himself in the tub once again.

When the cloth was cleaned as much as possible, Giles left it to set in the sink, and went back to his spot, which was already becoming habitual. "You said before that they put you through "endurance" testing. I let your responses slide yesterday, but from now on I'll need more detail before I'll be satisfied with your answers. Understood?"

Spike licked his lips and nodded.

"Good. So I want you to tell me. Or rather, describe for me... what exactly they did for this testing."

"They would... they'd tell me first what they wanted to do, an' what they wanted me to do in order to be rewarded."

"Which was...?"

"It was always different. Sometimes they'd repeat a test for days. But it was usually different."

"Pick an example, Spike."

"Well, they did one... they flogged me, and all I had to do was count as high as I could until I couldn't bear it anymore."

"How high did you get?" Giles asked, out of curiosity.

"236."

Giles suppressed the urge to curse at such a high number. "And then what?"

"And then they continued until I couldn't go no further."

Giles grit his teeth and looked away for a moment, feigning disinterest while he tried to rid his mind of the images of blood. "What else?"

"Sometimes they'd just test to see how I'd heal up," Spike said. "They..." he paused, looking at his hand and trembling for a moment. "They took the skin off my hand an' waited to see if it'd get infected."

Giles looked at Spike's hand, amazed by the sight of intact, flawless skin. Regardless, the horror remained, and he decided to change the subject.

"How long do you suppose they had you?"

"Long?"

"Yes." Giles supposed that maybe he couldn't distinguish the passing of time too well in his captivity. "When do you last remember being free? Before they caught you? A specific date?"

Spike looked utterly lost. "Forever," he said.

"No, Spike. Before they ever got a hold of you."

Spike shook his head vehemently.

"You don't remember?"

"There wasn't a time!" Spike cried out. Giles blinked, caught off guard by the first time Spike had raised his voice since being brought here. It wasn't even particularly loud, and that was the most astonishing part. The vampire had been so quiet, and he returned to that lower, fretful volume. "There was only darkness. No time. Only the dark, and the pain, and the blood, and the lights. Nothing. Nothing. Please. Can we go back to the cutting? I don't lose count."

Did he honestly not remember? It seemed rather like the desperate plea of a man – of a creature who didn't want to remember. For whatever reason, Spike had pulled in on himself, and chose to embrace his self-image as a willing victim. A survival technique, perhaps. It seemed reasonable. Giles hoped it was true, at least, and that the Initiative hadn't managed to actually wipe out his memories. He'd had hopes of asking William the Bloody all sorts of questions.

It seemed like he would actually have to take time to break Spike out of this behavior. The submissive act was nice and all, but being so skittish just made him absolutely useless. Giles could hardly believe that he was thinking of taking this route.

"Spike," Giles said in his most serious tone, snapping the vampire from his nervous fit. "I'll not have you ask me to cut you ever again. In fact, you may not ask me to hurt you in any way. That is what _they_ did. You are in _my_ care now. Is that understood?"

Spike seemed to shiver fractionally, or maybe it was just an illusion. He nodded his head gravely and then added, "Yes... master."

"Good," Giles said. "And please refrain from calling me 'master'," he added, appalled at the idea of the vampire picking up that habit.

"...Sir?" the vampire questioned hesitantly. Giles didn't object, deciding to allow it for now.

"In exchange for keeping you here..." Giles began, "in exchange for keeping you from harm, for feeding you, for allowing you to _live_... do you promise that you will, without hesitation, obey me to the fullest order?"

"Yes, sir," the vampire whispered, his eyes large.

Giles pulled his sleeve up, and held his wrist out until it was under the vampire's nose. "Bite me."

There was a hesitation. Giles pretended not to notice it, pretended that Spike merely needed a moment longer to allow his demonic face to emerge, and pretended that he did not notice how reluctantly Spike went for the flesh.

The bite caused minimal pain, but the bathroom rang with the sound of Spike's scream of pain. Such a hideous noise Giles was sure couldn't be faked, and he watched the vampire shrink away into the tub with forgiving eyes.

"All right," Giles said calmly, cupping at his bleeding wrist as he stood up. He went to the sink to wash himself... and after a moment's thought, he let the trickle of blood from his wrist drip into the still-warm mug of pig's blood. He only managed a few drops, but figured that it was probably a few drops more than he ever should have done. He washed and dressed his wound, then rolled his sleeve back down, and brought the mug to his... his?... vampire.

"Don't get used to it," Giles warned him as he held out the mug for Spike to feed from.

The pain from the chip must have been excruciating indeed. Even though Giles could see pleasure in Spike's eyes for the food, it was overshadowed by obvious lingering pain. He almost felt sorry, but at least now he knew for sure.

The feeding was slower this time, enthusiasm held back by Spike's obvious discomfort. He finished without making a mess, and Giles found himself strangely impulsed to praise him for that, but stopped himself. Spike was not a dog. At least, not the beloved family pet type.

Giles took his time picking up the empty mug and wet washcloth. He looked back at the tub to find the vampire watching him closely with wide, intent eyes. For a second, Giles swore he saw Buffy in those eyes, saying 'help me, guide me.'. The gaze followed him all the way to the open door.

"Go to sleep, Spike," Giles said, and waited until the vampire shuffled down in the tub and laid his head against the rim before shutting off the light. He could still see those eyes, nearly glowing in the dark, watching him until he shut the door.

Spike stared after Giles for a long time, but the human's footsteps moved away from the door, and did not return.

He'd been sold, after all, he decided. He'd heard about it... Some of the soldiers selling off vampires and demons to uncomely sorts of people as pets.

He'd hoped it wouldn't happen. Too many bad stories about what became of those sold pets. Even worse than what he went through. The soldiers would get a laugh out of it, at least. If he was useful, maybe they wouldn't sell him...

It was all futile, Spike realized. But now his insides were almost all aflutter with relief. Giles seemed... maybe nice was too generous. Although if anyone were listening to his thoughts, then yes, master was so very very kind and he loved master very much, yes he did. He'd promised not to hurt him, for one. He rewarded him just for answering questions, and for promising himself to him. He had even named him 'Spike.'

Best of all, Master let him drink his blood... That meant something important, Spike was sure. He'd made him promise to be faithful, and then let him drink his blood. He was testing him out before, Spike realized, with all those questions. And somehow, Spike had passed. His master wanted to keep him. For what, he wasn't sure yet. That made him a little nervous, but he pushed the feeling aside.

Spike closed his eyes and tried to sleep, as he'd been told. He focused on the taste of blood in his mouth, and tried to distinguish the flavor that was unique to his master. That had to be his first real test. He sucked at the inside of his cheek, able to taste it, and then tried to feel where the blood was inside of him, coursing through his body. He could almost feel those drops of blood tingling in his veins, warming him, pulling him close to his master. He began trying to feel through this blood link - try to reach out and sense where his master was, what he was thinking and feeling. The link was far too weak, but Spike dozed off with the thought that he could just sense his master at the edge of his senses.


	4. Unrestrained

A/N: Thanks for your reviews. I know some of you are getting nervous about this situation. The story will be angsty, no doubt, but I'm not intending to make this a full ride into dark fic. However, this chapter ain't exactly fluffy. Hang in there, bbs.

Sex stuff lies ahead in this chapter. Don't read if you are underage, because that would be naughty.

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><p>Obedience training. Giles never in his life thought he'd end up trying to test a vampire for it's loyalty. It was just something he'd almost thought to be impossible. Yet that was what he knew it was each time he entered the bathroom and started another session with Spike.<p>

There was only so much to do with a chained vampire. Only so much he could think to ask, and even less he could think to do. With a free vampire, though... that would really show him some things.

He began by freeing Spikes hands and then extending his own hand to Spike, offering it as a thing to examine. The vampire took the hand in his own, slowly running his fingers over the warm skin. He felt every square inch with the barest brush of his fingertips, and then went over again, massaging gently at every point that intrigued him. His hands were so slow, so careful, that Giles grew slightly nervous.

The soothing motions continued, and then Spike captured the hand between his own. He brought it to his face, inhaling at each finger to capture the scents lingering on them. Giles shivered at the cool breath against his skin, and the light brush of Spikes lips on his skin.

When he withdrew his hand, Spike released him immediately, and watched him with dark eyes. Giles repeated this testing, slowly allowing Spike to be a little freer, to test how well he could trust this vampire.

Finally, Giles went in and released Spike from the chains again, this time completely freeing him. As usual, Spike stayed still, even as Giles headed back out the door.

"Come," Giles called as he left.

Spike blinked slowly, unable to decide if he had heard correctly. Finally, he tried to stand, like a newborn deer. The chains slid off of his lap, and he climbed out gracelessly, nearly quivering.

He left the bathroom slowly, a little dismayed to discover that Giles had not waited. He closed his eyes, and sniffed at the air, searching for the scent his master had been training him on. Everything in here smelled of him, but he followed the freshest, and found his master waiting for him in the living room.

It was a queer sight to watch Spike emerge. He seemed too pale, too thin, and utterly odd in this environment. Giles sat in his living room chair, trying to exude an air of confidence and lack of concern, but it was difficult. His body still knew that Spike was indeed a predator, and was unsettled by all of his unnaturalness.

As Spike came towards him, Giles wondered if he had made a mistake. Surely Spike could still tear out his throat and leave him to die, chip or no chip.

The worry grew as Spike approached, and then disappeared like a rock dropped in a pond when Spike fell to his knees in front of him. Giles briefly wondered if he had ever seen eyes so blue, and then took Spike's face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over the sharp cheekbones. The vampire surprised him by closing his eyes and nuzzling into Giles' palm. The watcher almost laughed aloud, and wondered what the Council would think of him now. He let go of the vampire, not one to encourage odd behavior, and handed him the mug that had been waiting on the table.

Spike looked surprised, and took the mug carefully, as if be had never held anything in his hands before.

"Don't make a mess," Giles said, and picked up a book, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

He watched Spike settle onto the floor, and then felt the vampire press against his legs. He struggled to read, finding himself distractedly repeating line after line, never able to focus long enough to move forward. He noticed when Spike had finished, and quietly set his mug on the floor.

"Don't leave it lying about," Giles scolded lightly, startling the vampire. "Go on... Soak it in the sink."

Spike stood, hesitant again, and then went to the kitchen. Giles had to resist he urge to watch. He heard water run, and the quiet clink of glass.

Bloody hell, Giles thought to himself. In a few days time he could have a vampire doing the sodding dishes for him.

He heard Spike's footsteps back to him, and then felt the vampire fall at his knees again, and rub his head boldly against his knee as if he were some great big cat. Giles startled enough to actually drop the pretense of reading and stare at the vampire. Spike was not looking at him, but continued to nuzzle against his knee several times. Against his better judgment, Giles reached out and slid his fingers into the short fuzz on Spike's scalp. He heard a soft and quickly suppressed moan, and then Spike stilled against him and allowed himself to be petted.

Giles contented himself with the gesture and went back to his reading, not expecting to get far. To his surprise, it was the creeping of evening shadows that stirred him from the book, many chapters later. His hand was still resting on Spike's head. The vampire all but fallen asleep against him.

Giles closed the book and set it aside, amused when a fuzzy head immediately perked up and peered at him.

"It's time you took a bath," Giles said. "Take your bandages off as well. I'll redo whatever needs more tending to."

Spike stood up and, perplexed, started to peel one of his bandages.

"Go on," Giles shooed him, and the vampire quickly scurried off to the bathroom again.

This was easier than he'd imagined. So easy, it almost concerned him. Nothing in his life was ever so smooth. There was bound to be a fundamental flaw that would unravel this. Giles began to make mental notes of where he had stashed stakes and holy water in his flat, and where he should put more.

In the bathroom, Spike cleared the tub and started the water, making it run as hot as he could bear. Good, honest-to-God, hot water to soak in. He made quick work of his jeans, and then stood naked for a while, peeling bandages off of his body. The hardest ones were on the length of his sides. He was still sore there, and winced when the tape and all came off. It seemed to be healing well, but slowly. Spike was glad for once that he couldn't see himself in a mirror. He probably looked like a wreck.

He slid into the tub, relaxing into the hot water and trying his best to let it melt him. After a long soak, Spike scrubbed lightly at the parts of himself that weren't sore. The water was a dull, dingy pink by the time he climbed out. He watched it drain, silently bidding the shitty past goodbye. Three days, and he hadn't been beaten. He'd been fed, touched, caressed. He'd even been allowed to speak and go free a bit. Nothing was ever so pleasant for him. He was waiting for that catch, that ransom for an inch of happiness, and he felt a strong idea as to what it was. If it were what he suspected, then he supposed he wouldn't mind. Not in the least.

A knock came at the door while he rubbed himself dry with a towel.

"Are you set?"

"Uh-huh," came the answer, and Giles opened the door, not expecting to find a very naked vampire waiting for him.

"Bloody hell," Giles swore, looking away. Of all the things he imagined, this was not one of them.

He stepped forward, taking the towel from Spike's hands and wrapping it tightly around the vampire's waist. Spike made a noise, almost like a soft purring, and took the opportunity of closeness to try to nuzzle at Giles again. Spike could never be released into the wild again, Giles thought to himself, and nearly laughed at the idea.

"Clothes are something I insist you wear," Giles said. He looked at where Spike had left his jeans in a heap, and realized that asking the vampire to get back into his dirty state of half-dress was just as foolish. "I'll find something." He left the bath and went to his room to find something suitable.

Giles expected to grab something loose-fitting from his closet, but dug out an old pair of jeans instead. He found a faded t-shirt to complete the set, and returned to find Spike where he had left him.

Giles handed the jeans to Spike, and focused himself on gathering the first aid supplies again while very carefully not watching Spike dress. The wounds were still a bit shocking to see, but much better than before. Giles tested the healing on Spike's sides, and sensed the vampire's silent discomfort at the slightest touch. He bandaged these again, but found the rest suitable to leave alone.

"I've got to go for a while," Giles said. "You'll get back into the tub and await me, yes?"

Spike nodded, and dried the damp tub with his towel before settling back in and letting Giles chain him again. Giles once again turned the lights off for the vampire, hoping it would curb any restlessness.

* * *

><p>For the first time in about two days, Giles returned to the Magic Box. The children were all a bit surprised to see him, having expected him to take a while longer off for dealing with Spike.<p>

"You're back early," Xander said as his greeting. "Got a pile of dust back at home?"

"Er, no," Giles said. "Actually, things are shaping up nicely. If anything can be said as a compliment about the Initiative, they've made Spike nothing if not obedient."

"Huh. I guess you _can_ teach old dogs new tricks."

"Quite," Giles agreed. "How has the shop been, Anya?"

"Fine," Anya answered. "I've managed without you. You should leave more often."

"Nice to see that I was missed."

"I missed you," Willow chirped. "Tara and I were saying the other day, 'if only Giles were here! He'd know what to do.'"

"Trouble?" Giles questioned, looking at Buffy.

"Some Big Bad," Buffy said. "We've been dealing. How about you? You're the one who's been cooped up with a crazy vampire. Spill."

"Well, he certainly is chipped," Giles reported. "I think it's safe to say that he's harmless now. Though, I'm not quite sure about his state of mind. He grew extremely agitated when I asked about things before his capture. Aside from that, he's eager to please." It was almost eerie, actually. He entirely expected Spike to have some sort of relapse one day, but didn't mention it aloud yet. For some reason he wanted them to understand that Spike was changed before they heard the reasons why he was still wary.

Buffy frowned. "So where do we stand?"

"At the moment... I think the trail's gone cold," Giles sighed. "He doesn't remember anything useful. Until something turns up, I think we've hit a dead end. But he'll be helpful to us yet. Just having a vampire around to actually question and study will be a blessing in disguise."

"Geez, Giles is going all _Interview with the Vampire_ on us," Xander said.

"I'm only considering the possibilities. Give me another week, and then I'd like to see how he takes the company of others. Now, if you'd please – I have to deal with the creature all day at home; I'd rather not discuss him here as well."

The excuse worked, and for the rest of the evening, the focus was directed off of Spike, and onto other topics. However, despite the subject change, Giles could think of nothing else. He called to mind and considered every bit of Spike's subtle actions and facial expressions, trying to see if there were any hidden intent behind them. Then, he turned his mind onto more fanciful thoughts, considering what it would be like to have a vampire successfully integrated into their team, and wondering if Spike held some illusive piece of information that would be incredibly enlightening to them. It was a ridiculous thought, of course – there wasn't anything to tell about vampires that he didn't already know.

* * *

><p>The week continued, and each day Spike found himself being given a little more freedom by his master. He enjoyed the new experience, and tested each new allowance, but was careful not to toe the unspoken line where his freedom ended.<p>

It was strange... Spike could have sworn that he'd had the new game figured out. He'd been bought as a pet, certainly. He had carefully judged the way Giles allowed him to touch him – always submissively as possible, he hoped – and the way that Giles doled out attentions in return, and rewarded him for letting himself be petted. So that was it. His master wanted a little pet to touch. But being covered in the towel, and told to dress had thrown him off a bit. Maybe there was more to it than just the sex. Giles definitely liked the power he held over him.

His favorite thing, Spike noted, was to take a seat while reading, and have his pet at his feet. It became habitual for Spike to settle against his leg, and for his master to absently stroke his hair.

The light touches were just too much. Spike shifted uncomfortably, finding himself becoming embarrassingly hard just from the fingers in his hair. His master pretended not to notice the effect on him, but the game became too much to bear. He could only win by forfeiting, Spike realized, placing an unsteady hand on his master's thigh.

The touch broke Giles out of his thoughts, and he stilled. Spike turned towards him, rising up onto his knees and settling – oh God – settling himself in between Giles' thighs. The vampire lightly pushed the book away, silently demanding Giles' attention, and slid his hands up the inside of the human's thighs.

Giles was no fool, but he was only a man. He brought his hands to Spike's head, intending to stop him, but his intent crumbled away as soon as Spike unbuttoned his trousers. The vampire didn't play coy – Giles felt himself immediately engulfed in a cool, wet mouth. He grasped for breath and dug his fingers at Spike's scalp, but found himself pulling the vampire closer rather than pushing him away.

The vampire took no further encouragement, and Giles felt himself being swallowed to the back of Spike's throat. He choked off a groan, but couldn't help himself from coming unbearably quickly. It had been so long since... and Giles swore as he felt Spike swallow all of his cum readily, even licking with enthusiasm as if wanting for more. And Christ, if he would have come a second time just over that, he could have.

Sensitivity ended his pleasure after a few moments, and reminded Giles of his sin. He pushed the demon away, mentally cursing him for such a dirty trick. Giles rose to his feet and fled, redressing himself as he went. He didn't stop until he reached the bathroom and shut himself inside.

The demon had played him. Giles rubbed his eyes and held his face in his hands at the mirror, but refused to confront his own reflection. The vampire had lulled him into trust, and then took the opportunity to corrupt him. Corrupted indeed... Giles tried to feel disgust, but could only feel the incredible ache still left in his loins.

He'd fallen far, Giles realized. From being one of the most esteemed Watchers in the Council, to being fired, and now not only harboring a vampire, but getting sucked off by one. He never asked for any of those things to happen to him. No, he never asked for it, but he wasn't one to lie back and let things just happen without taking a bit of control back.

Spike hadn't budged from his spot on the floor, trying to make sense of Giles' reaction. Had he really done wrong? He thought he read all the signals correctly. In fact, he knew he did. Now he grimaced at his folly and dashed his hands at his own head.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered. He stilled when he heard the bathroom door open once again, and shivered when he saw how Giles looked at him.

Spike felt like dying as the human approached him.

"What was that about?" Giles asked in an ice-cold tone.

Spike cringed, unable to meet Giles's stare. "I... I thought-"

"No," Giles interrupted. "You didn't."

Spike hesitated, surprised that he had been caught in a lie. "I wanted..." he trailed off shakily, shifting uncomfortably.

"Show me."

The vampire looked at him, stunned. For a second Giles considered calling off the idea, but bit his tongue instead. Lines had already been crossed. Fire had to be fought with fire. He watched the vampire obediently take himself out, hard and leaking. Spike faltered, slowly squeezing his hand around his need, and then began to stroke himself for his master.

Giles said nothing, tried to feel nothing as he watched, until Spike closed his eyes, seeming to be close to his end. "Look at me when you come, vampire," he ordered.

Spike's eyes snapped open, and he saw the vampire flinch in embarrassment, trying to obey while he reached his climax. A small whine of release tore through Spike, and he struggled to keep eye contact as his semen spilled over his hand and onto the floor.

Satisfied with the regret on Spike's face, Giles finally looked away. "Clean it up," he said, leaving the vampire to burn in his shame.


	5. Damnation

**A/N: More dubious sex times lie ahead in this chapter.**

**Additional warning: rape is mentioned in this chapter. Not a detailed encounter, but could still trigger someone sensitive to the topic. Use your own discretion.**

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><p>He had to keep Spike on a shorter leash after that. For the next two days, he made the vampire clean the house, cook the food, and in moments of down time, made him lay on the floor, in the corner. To his credit, Spike did all he was asked without a word of protest. Still, Giles could sense the disappointment and lingering humiliation coloring the air around the vampire. He couldn't let himself feel sorry for the vampire. He buried himself in anger at first, and then in a sense of self-righteousness. Spike needed a firm hand to keep him from straying into those perversions the Initiative had apparently taught him.<p>

Giles returned home one afternoon with groceries in hand. Spike immediately perked, coming to silently greet him.

"Make yourself useful," Giles said, indicating the bags as he set them down.

There were definite benefits to having company at home. Giles began to boil a kettle of water while the vampire moved around him, placing groceries away as carefully as possible. When the last bag was emptied, Spike began to head back to the living room and make himself scarce as usual, but Giles stopped him with a light touch.

"I'm going to bring you by the shop tonight," Giles told him. "It's time that you get used to being around the others. You are not to touch them or stare at them. You are not to linger near my side. You are not to interfere, or speak without being spoken to. Essentially, if you embarrass me in any way, I'll do things to you that the Initiative would have considered too cruel. Is that understood?"

Spike nodded. "Yes, sir."

"You've done very well," Giles added quietly, and then dismissed him.

When the time came, Giles made Spike as presentable as possible, and then decided it was time to see what would happen.

Giles entered the shop first, as if uncaring whether or not the vampire followed him. In truth, he was nervous, worried that he had overestimated Spike's loyalty. To his hidden relief, the vampire followed him without turning tail. The vampire, not daring to cling to Giles's side and "bother" him, hovered uncertainly in the middle of the shop.

"A customer?" Anya asked brightly, taking a step towards Spike. Giles gave her a sharp look and shook her head, and she frowned, now completely disinterested. "Oh. Giles' pet."

"Wow," Xander said. "No leash or anything. Giles has some big brass-"

"Xander," Buffy admonished. She watched Spike for a while, and folded her arms protectively across herself. "He looks better than last time."

The vampire looked at her, and then at Giles with confused, questioning eyes.

"What, no declaration of undying gratitude to the woman who saved your pale backside?" Xander snorted.

"Err, I rather think that he doesn't remember that," Giles explained, "and since I've not let you visit, it didn't come up. Sorry."

"Oh," Buffy said.

"Spike," Giles said, pleased when the vampire immediately gave him full attention. "Buffy, and Xander... they were the ones who brought you to me. If not for them, you'd have been burned to death by the Initiative's lovely personnel."

Spike blinked, clearly trying to process this information, and turned back to Buffy. "Thank you," he said politely. He actually itched to – to hug her? – and express his thanks more appropriately, but his master had forbidden it.

"You're welcome," Buffy said.

He shuffled awkwardly for a moment and then decided it was time to make himself scarce – a skill he'd learned well even in Giles' small apartment.

"He really has changed," Buffy commented, actually a little unnerved by the change in behavior. "This was how he came to?"

"No. He was a little worse then."

"Wow."

Giles didn't reply, but seemed to think that the one little word surmised the entire situation quite well.

A few hours later, Willow and Tara stopped by the shop. They entered hand-in-hand, with shy smiles that lightened up the room, as always, and gave their friends happy greetings. They seemed to visibly radiate with an intimate happiness between them. It was obvious that they'd been enjoying some "spells" together, as Xander put it.

"How goes it?" Willow asked, finding a seat at the table for herself, and pulling another chair alongside for Tara.

"It goes," Buffy answered, mirroring her friend's perky attitude. "Oh, so you know, Spike's here. Giles brought him by. Where'd he go?"

Willow tensed a little, looking around the shop with wary eyes.

For a moment, Giles had forgotten too about the vampire's existence. He remembered giving the vampire a nod when he saw Spike looking at the stairs up to the loft. He glanced up the to book shelves, and saw a peek of blue eyes and fuzzy head as the vampire reacted curiously to his name being mentioned.

"He's up in the stacks," Giles said, and the vampire disappeared again.

"Oh. Yeah, but it's cool," Buffy said to the witches, trying to put them at ease. "If Giles trusts him enough, then so do I. He's chipped, anyway, and besides all that-" she reached into her back pocket and brandished a stake within a blink of an eye. "Tada." She wiggled it between two fingers. "He'd go poof before you could say 'eek, a vampire!'"

Giles snorted a little, amused by but also proud of his slayer's confidence in herself. And in him, he supposed.

"Okay," Willow put on a smile, trusting her friend to protect her, at the very least.

"I was waiting for you guys to get here," Buffy said, changing the subject. "There's been some big nasties lately. Stuff I haven't seen before. I ran into one a few nights ago and didn't think much of it, but last night there were a lot more."

"They're... multiplying?" Tara asked hesitantly.

"You think that would explain the jump in deaths in the last few days?" Xander spoke up.

Giles frowned. "I suppose we'd best identify them, then." He went to a nearby shelf that he kept stocked with his most useful books, and found one that contained a wide variety of demon species, practically cataloging them. He thumbed open the book, refreshing himself on the contents for a moment.

"I actually killed one," Buffy added conversationally. "Typical slice-and-dice seemed to do just fine. But, I dunno, it might not be helping much if they start showing up by the truck-full."

"How would you describe the skin?" Giles asked, starting with a base question to immediately narrow down the search. "Scaly? Furry? Slimy?"

"Uh... leathery, I guess," Buffy said. "A bit armored, even. But not like real knight-in-shining-armor kind of armor. I mean like an armadillo."

"Tough skin," Giles simplified, flipping through more pages of the book. He sighed a little. "We really should compile these into a database," he admitted, referring to an idea that Willow had long ago introduced.

"Working on it," Willow said. "The, um, search function just isn't working right. But I'll fix it soon." She rose up and grabbed a book to help in the search.

"How many claws?" Giles asked.

Buffy pursed her lips. "Um. I dunno, Giles."

"Other distinguishing features, then?"

"I got this one. They moved on all fours. They were like, people-shaped, though, but they moved on all fours. It was really creepy. And they had really long arms. Oh, and they were this brown-red color. It was dark and stuff, but... yeah, they were that color. Also, they had no mouths. Or, at least not human mouths."

Giles tried to imagine the creature, and remained puzzled. "I've not heard of a demon like that before." He flipped through the book a little more, considering consulting a different text. "Perhaps if we-"

"Lh'egyam."

They all looked up, and saw the vampire standing at the side of the balcony, looking at them all.

Giles blinked and shook his head, unsure if he'd actually heard Spike speak. "Excuse me?"

"S-sorry," the vampire suddenly disappeared into the stacks again.

"He knows what it is?" Buffy asked Giles.

The watcher adjusted his glasses and began to flip through the book, looking at names. "What did you say?" he called to the vampire.

A low whine seemed to return to his ears from the stacks. "I'm sorry! You said, 'don't speak out of turn' an I meant to obey, you, I did. I didn't do my best, I'm sorry-"

"For God's sake, don't mumble. Get down here this instant," Giles said. He waited for the slow footfall on the stairs, and was surprised when instead, Spike leapt off the balcony, landing almost silently and with ease on the ground. "Err... you were saying? The demon?"

"Lh'egyam," Spike repeated, and spelled it for Giles as best as it would translate into English.

"Nothing," Giles said after looking through the book five times. He snapped it shut in annoyance, and looked at Willow, who gave him the same message with a shake of her head.

"Useful after all," Buffy commented. "Okay, Spike... tell us what you know about this... Leggy-yam demon thingy."

"Yes," Giles said. "How is it we've never seen this before?"

"'Cause it doesn't live in America. The soldier-types brought it in for testing," Spike explained. "Heard they shipped it in from some place in Congo. They're strong, and brutal, but not hard to kill."

"You actually fought one of these before?" Giles asked, intrigued.

"'Course not. I mean I could've, but I weren't allowed. That weren't what I was being tested for."

"Right," Giles said, feeling blithe. "Endurance testing."

Spike nodded, pleased.

"Okay, then," Buffy said, clapping her hands together. "Sounds like easy slaying. I'll just bring a big, trusty axe and get to work."

"Wait," Spike said. "You gotta be careful, okay? And you gotta get 'em all quick. They're bloody rapists, and they reproduce like flies."

Buffy's eyes widened, and then she shook her head, clearly displeased. "Great. Invasive species."

"We'd all better go with you tonight," Giles said, knowing that at each moment the danger was growing.

"No way. I draw the line at vampire on patrol," Buffy said. "Sorry, but I don't trust him the way you do yet, Giles."

Her words surprised him. Did she really think that he trusted Spike with his life? By far, that was the last thing on his mind.

"Of course not," Giles said. "I'll simply return him to the house."

"He can stay here," Anya offered cheerily. "I'll mind the shop, and watch him while you're gone. In fact, I don't mind if you bring him by more often. You can just chain him up by the stairs... ooh, and leave him shirtless. Nothing like a little eye candy to make the day go by faster."

Xander coughed violently. "So, Giles, let me help you get Spike back to your place."

* * *

><p>The night went horribly.<p>

Giles walked back to his home, carrying a handful of weapons – small axes and some stakes. He felt himself covered in the stench of those foul, lecherous demons.

He could not shake the ghastly image of those creatures. They were so unnatural, so unsettling, although a far cry from the ugliest monsters he'd ever seen. It was unclear what he found so repulsive about them, until the demons had gotten closer, and seemed to get a whiff of their human smell.

Their... Christ... their deformed erections were enormous, and revolting. The only saving grace had been the mocking comments from Buffy, her loud "ew"s and quips only slightly breaking the offensive sight of them.

They made quick work of those demons, only taking special care to guard Willow and Tara from the foul things.

Buffy made a loud noise of disgust by the time the massacre was done. Indeed, it had been a fairly easy kill, aside from the mental scarring. The only "wound" any of them received was to Buffy's blouse, which was nearly ripped in two by one demon who "got lucky", to quote the slayer. None of them particularly wanted to think about what had been on that demon's mind when it attacked Buffy. Surely, it hadn't wanted to kill her.

She hoped aloud that they had gotten all of the ugly things, and Giles made note that if Spike was correct, even one surviving demon meant they could have another hoard to wipe out the next night. They then agreed to regroup the following evening, and walked home in protective groups.

Spike. Giles was furious with him. No... he fumbled with his keys, trying to keep his weapons from falling out of his hand as he unlocked the door. He wasn't furious with Spike. He'd told them the truth, after all. He was furious with... Giles opened the door, trying to avoid bringing back the image of those obscene things and their jutting... claws. Spike had encountered all of that first-hand.

He set the weapons down on the kitchen table, and looked about silently for the vampire in question. He found the blue eyes peering at him from the living room, but the vampire did not move. He hadn't been called for yet. Giles cursed aloud, remembering what Spike had said. He hadn't been allowed to fight the demons. That wasn't what the Initiative had tested him for.

The vampire shivered at the swearing, and attempted to disappear altogether.

"Spike," Giles said, forcing stillness into his voice. "Come here," he ordered, even as he himself walked to meet the vampire. Spike didn't actually get so far as standing from his spot on the floor, before he found himself staring at Giles' knees.

Giles crouched down, bringing himself to Spike's level, like a parent to a child. He cupped the face in his hands for a moment, to express his intent, and then petted the vampire's hair as he hadn't done in far too long.

"You were good tonight," Giles said in a soft voice. The vampire blinked and then closed his eyes, half smiling, and tried to nuzzle into his master's touch. "Spike," he said again, bringing the creature back to serious focus. "You remember our game? You promise to answer my questions fully and honestly, and I will reward you?"

Spike nodded quickly, eager to play another round. He waited for his master to ask, and then started to try nuzzling closer again. "What do you wanna know?" he asked quietly. "Go ahead."

Giles swallowed, the words stuck in his throat. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anything. "Did they...?" he trailed off, finding his face heating red. Damn! He was too old to be blushing about this, when he should just be blunt with the vampire. It has nothing to do with him, after all, and after forcing his 'pet' – as Anya had put it – to jerk himself off merely as punishment, they were beyond this awkwardness of words.

"The Initiative soldiers allowed the Lh'egyam demons to rape you, didn't they?"

Spike blinked, and Giles thought that the vampire was ashamed as well, until he heard a surprising, "'Course they did" that attempted to be matter-of-fact. "They wanted to see how much I could take. I did very well. I heal very well, see?"

The pale, slim man lifted his shirt to show off his nearly-healed wounds. Giles immediately pulled the shirt back down, his hand brushing against the hard muscles as he hid them from view. "Why do you prostrate yourself this way?"

"I... you're the nicest master I've ever had," Spike said. "I wanna make you happy," he added, his breath on Giles' lips as he spoke.

Giles moved just before the kiss could come, but still felt the brush of Spike's lips on his own. He left, as if unfazed, and went to the kitchen. When he returned with a hot mug of blood in his hands, he could have sworn he caught the vampire wiping tears away from his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Giles knelt down in front of Spike, setting the mug to the side. "You promised to answer me, always."

"I don't know what you want," Spike said, wiping away a fresh set of tears with his wrist. "You don' wanna cut me up. You don' want me to kiss you or touch you. You just want to ask me all sorts of questions and leave me confused."

"I'm sorry," Giles said. "You frighten me when you offer your body so willingly. I simply couldn't..." he couldn't take advantage of him. The thought actually rattled him. It wasn't wrong because Spike was a vampire, or because he was a killer, or because he was a man. It was wrong because he was a broken being, trying to seek approval without heed of the consequences. He did not, could not possibly want this.

"I'm not stupid, you know," Spike said, as if able to hear Giles' thoughts. "I can choose what I like."

"Can you? You've been beaten and subjugated for over a year. Even if I were to concede that you're in the right frame of mind to make any consent, you're still doing this for all the wrong reasons."

"Just 'cause I want you?" Spike asked, his words giving Giles more than a moment's pause. "Just because I don't want you to sell me. 'Cause I want you to be my master. I choose that."

Giles resisted the need to sigh and shake his head. The very fact that Spike was convinced he needed a master was proof of his point. He couldn't point that out, however, or risk this precarious relationship between them. He needed an edge of power over the vampire, and Spike's willingness to be held underneath him was just as unsettling as it was useful. Already he was a little weary of this power and the responsibility it held. He wasn't sure if he could ever rehabilitate Spike and get the vampire self-reliant without the entire experience crashing down on his head. Capture, torture, abuse, and rape, and on top of that, being treated as a thing, an object for study. All of the cards were stacked against him. For now, the vampire seemed fine, even blissful half of the time, but Giles wondered when the day would come that the ugly memories came back to haunt him.

That was the nagging issue. If he continued like this, using Spike, treating him as less, would the house of cards finally topple on top of him? Would he be damned in his own abuses? Or could he somehow navigate this treacherous path, somehow lead the vampire out of the trappings of all his pain? Giles knew he'd be walking a knife's edge. He knew that he would be going against his own strong beliefs. And ultimately, he could not foresee how this would end, good or bad. All he knew was that he'd be damning his soul, whether or not Spike ever gained the senses to rightfully blame him for this.

Giles closed the short distance between them, putting a hand to the side of Spike's face as he kissed him. The action was chaste at first, and then Giles felt the vampire's mouth part, and a cool tongue flicking at his lips. He let the vampire in, and claimed in turn, licking the very depths of Spike's cool mouth.

When he finally had to stop for breath, the vampire whined, shifting his weight on the floor. Giles did not have to look down to know the reason behind Spike's action - he could smell his own arousal in the charged air. It was necessary, he reasoned to himself while he still had the capability to think straight.

He must have encouraged Spike – didn't remember what he did or said, exactly, only that the vampire suddenly crawled over his lap, and that was exactly what he wanted. The slim, lithe body rocked against him, back arching and hips rolling in all the right ways – fuck! He was _not_ thinking about this. He was _not_ thinking about how incredibly erotic this young man was, hard and whimpering in his lap. It was wrong. This was a vampire, a demon, the bane of his existence – and shit, that did _not_ make him even more turned on in the slightest. No. This was just going through the motions, like giving Spike blood to drink. He was just taking care of a need. Giles slipped his hand beneath the waist of Spike's jeans, and swore aloud, realizing all at once that he was fucking kidding himself.

The vampire shuddered against his master, keening and digging his fingers at Giles' shoulders. Giles' hand was so hot against his cool skin, and seemed to stroke him so intently, Spike could do nothing but melt against him. He leaned his head in the crook of Giles' neck, taking comfort and pleasure in the heat and the sound of blood rushing just under the skin. So much blood, and the dark smell of his master. He almost felt alive. Almost wanted.

Spike buried his face against Giles, taking refuge in the darkness of closed eyes. The momentary calm was no good. Giles tested the body under his hands, squeezing even harder as he worked his hand, and was rewarded as the vampire made a loud noise and his hips bucked. His orgasm came with violent shudders. Spike felt the urge to bite down on the warm neck, but couldn't – instead he sucked hard at the skin until he could taste the blood welling up through the skin.

Giles held the vampire while he came, tensing as the vampire latched onto his neck. He expected a bite, and was a bit taken back to feel no pain come. The shudders finally stilled, and Giles stopped Spike from licking at his neck, making him sit back. Giles was still hard, much to his discomfort, but he took vicarious relief through Spike's release.

He carefully extracted his hand from Spike's pants, shivering at the cool wetness on his hand. Giles stared at the viscous fluid that covered him. His sin.

"Go to bed, Spike," he ordered. It was amazing, how calm his voice managed to be, when his head was full of noise.

Spike eased off of his master's lap, allowing Giles to stand up and leave. Bed for Spike was now, anywhere in the living room that was out of the way. As his master left, Spike retired himself to a corner, nearly under a table, and lay down.

Giles didn't linger long enough to see or care where Spike placed himself. He went to the bathroom, washed his hands, and then forcibly retired himself to bed. He changed out of the day's clothes, ignoring his unmet need, slipped under the covers, and began trying to will his arousal away, focusing on his guilt. There was plenty of that, after all.

He was lying at his deepest foundation. Lying to Spike by allowing the vampire to prostrate himself so lowly. Lying to Buffy and the others by pretending that he had nothing more to tell them of the vampire's history, and that Spike might prove useful. Lying to himself that he could rehabilitate this broken creature, or that he really wanted to. He was drowning in his sins, and... and he could still smell Spike's scent on his hand.

Sleep didn't come easily.


End file.
